


unceasing efforts

by phalangine



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 04:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: “I’ve loved you for years,” Stannis says. He picks his fork back up. “For a man who’s usually so perceptive, I’m surprised you missed it."





	unceasing efforts

**Author's Note:**

> art is the unceasing effort to compete with the beauty of flowers – and never succeeding.  
–marc chagall, jewish russian-french artist
> 
> this probably belongs in the collection of mini one-shots because it's more of a splash in the universe than something fleshed out, but it's ~9k, so here we are

When Davos comes downstairs for dinner, instead of being greeted by the usual sight of Stannis glaring at his tablet while scrolling through the news, he finds the room empty. The meal is ready, if covered by cloths and lids, and the table is set for three.

Yet Stannis is nowhere to be found.

Shireen is missing, too, which is more confusing. She’s found her appetite now that she’s in college. She hasn’t missed a meal at home since her first semester.

Davos takes a moment to steal a roll off the plate before he heads off in search of his Baratheons.

It doesn’t take long to find them, though it’s more accurate to say Davos is the one who’s found. He’s walking down the hallway to the guest room Shireen commandeered for her equipment when Stannis opens a different door and pokes his head into the hallway.

He doesn’t smile when he sees Davos, but there’s nothing unusual about that.

The fact that he’s frowning, on the other hand...

Stannis looks down at Davos and frowns harder. “You’re late for dinner.”

“Am I?” Davos had come down when he caught the scent of food cooking, which he’d taken as a sign that he was on time. He looks down at his watch, and somehow, it’s almost eight o’clock. “I thought it was earlier.”

“It isn’t.”

Not the warmest of replies, but when Stannis steps into the hallway and says, “Come,” he gestures for Davos to follow him. If he were genuinely angry, he wouldn’t bother.

He looks tense, and even after thirty years, Davos still can’t confidently discern how much is Stannis reacting to something and how much is Stannis’ innate tension.

“Shireen just informed me she already had dinner with her friends,” Stannis explains as they reach the kitchen. He doesn’t stop to look at Davos as he picks up the place setting meant for Shireen. “It seems she got too hungry to wait for you.”

_ So there _ is _ something going on. _

It’s no great feat to guess what. Now that she’s living away from both of her parents, Shireen finally has the space to find herself. Stannis hasn’t been fond of the last few versions Shireen has tried on for herself, and Shireen, now that she’s got some friends and the start of self-confidence, hasn’t been fond of her father’s inability to adapt to her changing self.

Part of the problem, Davos reflects as he watches Stannis put the cutlery away too deliberately, is that Shireen is stuck following in her father’s footsteps but doesn’t have his attitude. She has Stannis’ eye for detail, but where Stannis sees only failures and deficiencies, Shireen sees places to dig for joy. Stannis feels the world judging him and assumes he’s been found lacking, which gives his photographs their singular brutality; in terms of conveying drama and sorrow, Stannis’ work is unparalleled. Shireen feels that same judgment, but she’s trying to prove it wrong. Her growing portfolio is full of people mid-laugh and people pushing themselves, overcoming whatever they’ve set themselves against.

The two of them are caught in a loop. Stannis is unhappy, which makes Shireen unhappy. She tries to find something to be glad about, some speck of something she can enjoy, but that makes Stannis more unhappy. He knows he had nothing to do with Shireen’s good nature and everything to do with her shyness. His sense of inadequacy flares up at the reminder of his failings as a father. So he becomes more unhappy, and Shireen is cornered into pushing back harder.

It’s difficult to watch, but there’s no other option. It isn’t Davos’ place to interfere.

Footsteps interrupt the sound of Stannis sulkily sitting himself down at the table, and the moment Davos sees Shireen, he’s reminded of the other part of the problem.

“Oh, you did go pink this time,” he says.

Stannis finds the strength to scowl harder at the table.

Taking a seat next to Davos, Shireen beams at him. “Bubblegum pink,” she explains. “We all picked pastel colors.”

The serving spoon hits the plate sharply as Stannis serves himself too hard.

Davos fights the futile impulse to try to smooth Stannis’ ruffled feathers. “Is this what you were doing all day?” She nods. “Did you do it yourself?”

She shakes her head. “My roommate’s boyfriend knows a stylist in King's Landing.”

“Well, they did a much better job with your hair than Matthos did with his when he was your age. Remember when he thought he’d be a handsome blond? He missed a whole patch but he’d used all the bleach. He got it all over Marya’s nice towels, too, if I’m remembering right.”

Shireen and Stannis snort.

Their eyes snap to each other with twin expressions of suspicion, and Davos lets himself take his first mouthful of dinner.

You wouldn’t guess it, but Stannis is a remarkably good cook. Davos hasn’t gone a day without at least one homemade meal since Stannis hired him.

Tonight’s efforts taste even better than they smelled. They’re even still warm.

He catches Shireen smiling at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Something funny?” he asks.

“Davos,” Stannis begins.

Davos swallows. “Finish chewing before I start speaking,” he says before Stannis can. “Yes, dear.”

For a moment, Shireen’s eyes go wide, and Stannis, who usually has a quip at the ready, says nothing.

Davos doesn’t get a chance to ask what just happened.

“I was just remembering that we used to call you Onion Knight,” Shireen says quickly. “More me than Father, but he’d do it sometimes.”

Something again passes between Stannis and Shireen, and again, Davos doesn’t ask about it.

“Tales of the Onion Knight were the only way to get her to sleep. I merely conveyed to her what you and I had done at work earlier in the day,” Stannis clarifies. “All I had to do was change ‘Davos’ to ‘the Onion Knight’.”

“And change your part to ‘the handsome king’,” Shireen adds.

“I wasn’t going to be a prince in my own narrative, and you insisted on the adjective.”

Davos shakes his head and takes another bite of pasta. Shireen and Stannis fall silent as well as Stannis eats his own dinner and Shireen taps at her phone.

Davos is tearing into his second roll when Shireen sighs and leans into him, laying her head heavily on his shoulder.

“If this is a height joke-”

“What is there to joke about?” she asks. “We’re all taller than you, Davos. Father, Mother, me... Even Melisandre. It’s just a fact of life, like Uncle Robert drinking and Joffrey being a little-”

“Language,” Stannis and Davos chorus.

Shireen sighs again, but this time it’s melodramatic and entirely something she picked up from her father. “Tiff and I are going out later.”

“Be careful,” Davos starts, only for Shireen to finish, her voice singsong, “-drink slowly, you and Father will come get me if I need you to, never call Uncle Robert, have fun, make bad decisions, and don’t tell Father you said the last part.”

She gets up, only pausing long enough to kiss Davos’ cheek. “Oh, that’s right. I need your advice on an assignment, so don’t go anywhere tomorrow, okay?”

“Unless your father needs me elsewhere-” Stannis shakes his head “-I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you, Davos.” She bends over again to let him kiss her cheek.

Then she’s off, running around grabbing her bag and her shoes and then switching bags and then finally running out the door when someone honks their horn.

It’s quiet without her. Stannis wants to say something; Davos can see it. But Stannis doesn’t speak and Davos knows better than to try to push him.

They clean up without speaking. Stannis puts away the leftovers because he cooked, so Davos does the dishes.

By the time they’ve finished, with Stannis stepping in to dry things with a dish towel to make space, Davos is yawning and thinking longingly of his bed.

“I have a remote meeting with Robert tomorrow while you work,” Stannis tells him. “It will either take a minute or the day.”

That’s how things go with Stannis and his brothers. Either they get their work done quickly because they don’t want to deal with each other or Renly and Robert waste the day antagonizing Stannis.

Stannis isn’t above goading them in return, but he gets his work done first.

“I’ll hope for the former,” Davos promises.

Stannis nods and turns off the light in the kitchen. “Goodnight, Davos.”

“Goodnight, Stannis.”

That’s all they say because it’s all they need to say before Stannis walks up the stairs and Davos drags himself around the stairwell, both of them headed to sleep in their separate beds, just as they’ve done every night for the past thirty-odd years.

xx

Davos and Stannis have a strange relationship. Davos knows that.

Stannis is a famous photographer. Davos was his assistant until Stannis retired. Normally, Davos would have taken his last paycheck and moved on.

Instead, he’s living in Stannis’ house and parenting Stannis’ daughter and pining after a man so certain he’ll be rejected that he conjures rejections out of victories. It was the hardest part of Stannis’ work life to watch. Worse than seeing him passed over. Worse than seeing his work misunderstood. Worse even than Stannis’ stubborn refusal to explain any of his work.

_It must stand on its own, Davis. If they can’t understand it, that’s their failing._

Stannis is the type to fall on his sword not out of honor but to be the one to do the deed. He’s needlessly fallen on it so many times, Davos can’t help but wonder at his ability to continue doing so.

In this case, it’s Davos who’s certain of rejection. Whatever Stannis is doing upstairs, it won’t be what Davos is doing- lying awake in bed because he’s exhausted but lit up at the same time because Stannis was wearing the soft black sweater Davos gave him for his last birthday. It’s fitted, and Davos had to spend the whole day thinking about reaching out and touching it- and by extension, Stannis.

It’s no wonder all Davos’ sculptures are incomplete. He can’t stop thinking about what he can’t have to focus on what he’s supposed to be making.

xx

There’s oatmeal left on the stove when Davos wanders into the kitchen. It’s still warm, and he happily scoops some into a bowl, which he eats while he stands in the middle of the kitchen.

He finishes his meal, and with nothing else to do, he heads to the studio.

The space is divided in half by Stannis’ decree. Davos would have taken less and did try when he first moved in, but Stannis ordered him to take what he was due. Years at Stannis’ side had impressed on Davos the importance of accepting gifts from Stannis. Say he isn’t worthy but make no effort at rebuffing it- that’s the key to keeping peace with Stannis. 

They do very different work. When Stannis is in the studio, he’s mainly editing photos on his computer; the only signs he’s there are the tapping of his fingers as he makes adjustments and the occasional sound Stannis makes when he’s annoyed. Davos tends to wear headphones, so more often than not, he forgets Stannis is even in the room.

He still isn’t sure how Stannis can concentrate when Davos is sculpting, but he must be able to. Davos is a light sleeper and has the bedroom next to the studio; he’d know if Stannis were returning later.

Despite being silent, Stannis has a way of occupying the space around him. Davos can feel his absence, and on days like this, when Davos is feeling more tired than creative, he has to work harder to find the thread of productivity he had the last time he sat down to work.

The ship is a commissioned piece, something one rich man wants to give his equally rich friend. Davos prefers to work on small pieces, things that don’t exceed the length of his arm, but the man who came to him had a deep bank account and an itchy zero-writing finger. Davos may have lived comfortably for longer than he starved and accidentally won a secure place in Stannis’ home, but the fear of going without still has its sway.

He’ll put most of it into the boys’ college funds. He doubts all his sons will make use of them, but Davos also doubted he’d do anything that wasn’t smuggling. Better to put it away in case with a precedent like that.

The rest will go to Stannis to be added to the Baratheons’ scholarship funds.

He reminds himself that that money does good things as he puts his headphones on, picks up his tools, and returns to the task of hand chiseling the hull of a ship that’s bigger than he is.

Monotonous as it is, the repetition is soothing, and Davos has always liked the way it feels to make things. He’s no Michelangelo carve marble to free an angel, but the slow transformation of unshaped wood into something recognizable is satisfying.

He’s just about finished sanding and is ready to swap his mask for a bottle of anything Stannis might have stashed in the mini fridge when a cup appears in front of him.

Shireen smiles at him, though it doesn’t quite sit right on her face. “For the busy artist- one part Pedialyte, one part seltzer.”

“I don’t understand what you have against seltzer,” Davos says as he takes the cup from her. “It’s just some bubbles. You and your father have no sense of fun.”

She still made it and brought it to him, though, and Stannis did learn to live with Davos’ unwelcome drinks in his home. 

Shireen shakes her heat as he tips his head and drains the whole cup.

“I’ve got iced coffee inside if you want some,” Shireen says when he accepts there’s nothing left. “I made it, too. I had to get Melisandre to grab the beans for me because Mother’s still mad at Father, though, and she’s great at roasting but terrible at everything that comes after that, so…”

Davos doesn’t ask why Selyse is unhappy with Stannis. The two of them are usually feuding with each other about one thing or another.

Finally being released from a loveless marriage probably has something to do with that, Davos supposes. Two decades of forcing yourself to swallow your anger to keep the peace with someone you never loved to begin with…

He can’t imagine it. Marya hit the limit of what she could tolerate from him a couple years back, so they sat down and made the cleanest break they could. The first six months were rough on the whole family, but they got through. The boys, upset as they’d been about the divorce, are all happier than they were before. Dale even asked Marya and Davos to help plan his wedding, and the only hiccup was his fiancée taking a swing at Stannis for working Dale so hard.

He let her land it, which shocked her more than anyone else.

Davos wound up spending the rest of the reception next to Stannis as everyone else danced and got shitfaced, but when he’s in the mood to be, which he was that day, Stannis can be good company.

He paid for that later when he realized he was going to be scolded by Marya’s mother for divorcing her- all the while hearing Stannis in his head asking which family the cucumber belonged to. The dress wasn’t even that bad, just very long and very green…

Remembering Shireen, Davos clears his throat. “I’m sure it came out well, and I hope you made a lot of it. Last time I drank the last of it, your father sulked for two weeks.”

“I hope a gallon will be enough,” she replies, her voice somehow soft and dry just like her father’s. “I’d like to get your input on that thing I mentioned if you have a minute.”

“For you, Shireen, I can find at least two.”

He says things like that all the time; as a father, he gets to say clichés with impunity. His boys have always rolled their eyes good-naturedly at him, but when she was little, Shireen seemed taken aback when he said things like this.

Now, she rolls her eyes as she walks with him to the kitchen.

It feels like an accomplishment, though she’s the one who earned it.

She lets go once they reach the kitchen. She moves around with her mother’s anxious energy, but like so many things over the last day, something about it isn’t quite the same.

“Have you seen Patches yet?” he asks.

“Yeah!” She stops hunting through the fridge to beam at him. “He’s doing really well. His roommate is this guy who plays the banjo, and the two of them jammed out like the entire time I was there.”

Davos smiles, relieved to see her so happy. He’s never felt entirely at ease with her childhood friend, but Shireen adores the boy. Patches has his own interests, but he always did choose to sit by Shireen when he had the option. To an otherwise friendless child, that probably meant more than anyone realized at the time.

Davos had been afraid Shireen would hurt herself from crying with all the fuss she made when she had to say goodbye before she left for college. She kept sobbing as she tried to tell him she wouldn’t be back for a long time, her voice trembling and cutting out. Patches had simply repeated one of his incomprehensible little poems, which had only served to make her cry harder.

“Your father does have a good eye for making matches when he wants to,” Davos says.

Shireen blinks at him.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” She shakes her head, and Davos sighs. “The last time you visited, you said you were worried about how quiet Patches was, so after you left, Stannis and I made some calls.”

“You don’t mean-”

He waves away the horror he can see rising in her. “He and his last roommate just weren’t a good match. All your father did was make some suggestions about some better fits.”

She lets out a long breath. “I worry about him, Davos.”

“I know you do, but we really did make sure he’s in a good place. Stannis even drops by himself just to be sure-”

“I don’t mean Patches.” She looks away. “I mean, I do worry about him, but I meant Father.”

Davos flounders. Shireen has always loved Stannis and worried about him; that isn’t a revelation.

The sort of worry is different now, though.

“His heart is doing fine,” Davos reassures her. “He may well outlive us all.”

She nods, but she doesn’t look any less worried as she comes over and hands him a large glass of iced coffee.

“Come on. It’s in the spare room.”

He follows her into the same room Stannis was in yesterday before dinner.

“I lied a little yesterday,” she says, gesturing for him to sit on the bed. On the opposite wall, her laptop is set up to play on the house’s sole TV. “This is from an assignment I had a while back, the one where I had to make little documentaries on some of the people around me.”

“I remember that,” Davos says. “You chose Stannis, Selyse, Melisandre, Patches, your softball coach-”

“Miss Brienne.”

“-Miss Brienne, yes, and me. They were quite good. You even got a bit with your father smiling and it didn’t look like it hurt him.”

Shireen nods, but she doesn't smile. “There was a lot of footage I couldn’t include, you know? For time and for- for other reasons.”

Davos is trying to let this unfold how Shireen wants it to, but he doesn’t like any of this.

“Shireen-”

“Just watch it, okay?” Shireen asks the floor. “Please, Davos. Just watch.”

He swallows. “I can do that.”

Without another word, Shireen hits play.

The screen lights up, and Stannis’ face fills the display. He looks… better than Davos would have thought he would.

_\- So you’ve known Davos for a long time? _

That’s Shireen’s voice- this must be from an interview Shireen did with her father. She did similar ones with Davos about Selyse and Melisandre and even for himself.

_\- Longer than anyone not related to me other than your mother, yes. _

_\- Do you think he’s a good artist? _

Davos winces. Stannis doesn’t withhold what he feels is true. This must be what they’re so upset about. Why she’s showing him, he doesn’t know-

_\- To put it weakly, yes. _

Davos blinks.

_\- And if you didn't put it weakly?_

_\- I would say he has a finer eye for detail than any of the mob that disparages his lack of education. What he lacked in formal learning when I met him, Davos more than made up for in originality. He isn’t regurgitating someone else’s work, and he isn’t making something odd and trying to pass it off as avant-garde. To overlook his creativity and artistic vision because he never had anyone sit and hold his hand- _

Stannis snorts. Davos wonders if it’s because he just remembered Davos’ shortened fingers or simple disdain.

_\- Watching a master should teach you to see the world differently, especially one of a medium you yourself don’t use. It should teach you respect. It should challenge you to create things of even greater caliber. Sitting back and congratulating yourself on pointing out that a man didn’t attend a prestigious art school… It’s pitiful. I’m more interested in Davos’ rejected works than Ramsay Bolton’s latest attempt at creativity. _

There isn’t fury on Stannis’ face, but the derision is just as damning.

“Thank you, Shireen,” Davos says. “It was kind of you show me this, but I’m not sure-”

She hits a key on her keyboard, and another clip begins.

Stannis looks the same as he did in the first.

From off-camera, Shireen speaks.

_\- Why does Davos live with you? If you aren’t in a relationship and he has the means to support himself, what’s keeping him here? _

Blood roars in Davos’ ears, but it isn’t loud enough to block out Stannis’ answer.

_\- You’d have to ask him that. _

_\- I did ask him. And now I’m asking you. Why do you think Davos lives in your house with you when he doesn’t have to? _

Stannis stares at the camera for a long, silent moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely more than a rasp.

_\- I enjoy his company._

Neither of them speaks for a long, uncomfortable time.

Eventually, Shireen breaks the silence.

_\- That’s it? That’s all you have to say? He’s lived with us for years, Father. His marriage fell apart after he moved in, he’s been working with you for longer than I’ve been alive, he's basically my- _

Her voice gives out.

Stannis doesn’t so much as blink. 

_\- He’s been a father to you. Don’t look surprised- you’re my daughter. Did you think I didn’t hear you when you said you wished Davos were your father instead of me? Did you think I didn’t wish he were as well? That you might be a happier child if he raised you instead of me? _

_\- I don’t know what to think, Father, because you won’t talk about it. What will we do if someone else sees how good he is and he leaves? _

_\- That won’t happen. _

_\- You can’t know that. _

Stannis clenches his jaw, and Davos decides this is more than he should have seen.

“I think-”

“This is the last one.”

Shireen hits another key, and a different version of Stannis appears on the monitor.

_\- Does anyone not disappoint you, Father? _

_\- It isn’t about disappointing me. It’s about doing what must be done for things to work correctly. The right thing can still be disappointing. That doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be done. _

_\- What about Davos, then? Has he ever disappointed you? _

_\- Shireen, I just told you- _

_\- Has he ever disappointed you? _

Stannis sighs. 

_\- Yes. _

_\- And how did he get back into your favor? _

_\- He didn’t have to. _

_\- What do you mean? _

_\- As I said, the right thing can be disappointing. _

_\- What did he do right, then? Father? You can’t just look at your phone because I’m asking you something difficult. _

_\- Davos wants to know if you’ll be eating dinner with us, and if you are, what your thoughts on peas are today. _

_\- Yeah, I’m staying over, and I still hate peas. _

Stannis looks down for a moment, then back at Shireen. 

_\- He says he’ll be home in five minutes and dinner will be ready in fifteen. Go set the table. _

_\- Father- _

_\- Go, Shireen. _

She does, and Stannis is left looking down at his phone with an expression Davos can’t place until Stannis looks up sharply.

_\- “She left it on, didn’t she?”_

The clip ends there.

Davos looks over at Shireen. He should say something, anything, to say, but he can’t think of a single thing.

“I know this isn’t what people are supposed to do,” Shireen tells her laptop, “and I should have deleted everything and never said a word, but I just- I thought you should know.”

She looks miserable, and Davos hasn’t known her for nineteen years just to sit back and let her beat herself up.

“Come on,” he says. “Come over here.”

She looks up at him, so he waves her over. When she doesn’t get up, he does it again.

Slowly, she gets to her feet and trudges over to him, arms crossed protectively.

“This is why your father was in a mood yesterday, isn’t it?” Davos asks.

“Yeah.”

He thinks about that for a while, turning it over in his head until he comes to the only conclusion he can.

“You really have grown up, haven’t you? Tempting fate like that- where’d you find a set of balls that big?”

She snorts, and Davos pats a spot on the bed next to himself. She hops up and holds out her hand, which he takes in his.

“I don’t know what you should have done,” he says. “Your father and I will talk, and we’ll see where it goes.”

Her fingers tighten around his. “You won’t leave, will you?”

“I wouldn’t want to, but if your father told me to, I would.”

“Why?”

Rather than answer, Davos lays his other hand over hers. “I think it would be better if he and I didn’t have an audience when we talk. Are any of your friends still here?”

“A couple, but they’re working on a project for school, so…”

“Tell you what. Marya’s trying to get support for one of her projects. I can’t remember which. I’m sure she’d love input from a professional artist, though.”

Shireen nods. “Thank you, Davos.”

He pats her hand. “Go on, then. I’ll text her and get everything sorted out.”

One thing Stannis did do well- he taught his daughter not to belabor an exit. Shireen leaves without a fuss.

The moment she disappears, Davos pulls out his phone.

_ Sending Shireen over. Please give her a task. She thinks you’ve got a project going _

He doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_ Who fucked up? _

_ No one _

_ Stannis, then _

_ Marya. Please _

_ Fine. I’ll find something for her to do, but you’ll owe me _

_ Thank you _

She doesn’t reply, and soon after, Davos hears the front door swing open and fall shut.

There’s nothing left to do but wait for Robert to be done with Stannis.

Sighing, Davos hauls himself up and heads back to the studio where he’ll be able to stop thinking for a while.

xx

Six o’clock comes without any sign of Stannis.

Davos, who’s been clock-watching since he realized he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate well enough not to fuck up his whole project, decides that’s a bad sign and heads for Stannis’ room.

He knocks on the door.

After a moment, he hears footsteps.

Stannis opens the door with an expression that says he’s been trying to talk to his brother for a month and has felt every second of it.

“Dinner,” Davos tells him. “Did you eat yet?”

Stannis shakes his head.

From inside the room, Robert’s tinny voice still manages to bellow, “Is that the wife? And I don’t mean the woman who left you.”

A muscle in Stannis’ jaw twitches.

“Hello, Robert,” Davos calls. “How’s Joffrey? I heard his suspension is almost over. How many is that so far this year? Three?”

Robert lets out a laugh that half makes Davos fear for Stannis’ speakers.

“Did you need something?” Stannis interrupts.

“I do, yeah. Dinner.”

“I left three containers of-”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to work this oven,” Davos says, raising his voice and making a face at Stannis. “I’m sure your brother will understand.”

The one understanding- finally- is Stannis. His eyes narrow as he nods. “I’ll be down in a moment, Davos.”

He turns and shuts the door, but Davos still hears Robert ask, _ “Gods, Stannis. Haven’t you taught the man how to use an oven?” _

Shaking his head, Davos returns to the kitchen to wait.

xx

When Stannis comes downstairs, he looks ready to start scolding, but he catches sight of Davos’ gift before he can start.

“Is this from the curry house?” He must notice the empty bags behind Davos because he amends, “Is this _ all _ from the curry house?”

Davos nods. “I got hungry.”

Stannis stands in the middle of the kitchen for a moment then joins Davos at the table.

“Davos,” he asks in the middle of scooping rice onto his plate, “where are we going to put all of the leftovers?”

“Shireen’s got a big back seat, and we don’t need two travel coolers.”

Davos says it without thinking, but Stannis’ expression freezes.

_ Just rip it off like a Bandaid, _Davos thinks.

“She showed me the videos.”

Stannis puts his fork down too carefully. “She shouldn’t have said anything. If they had no bearing on her project, which they didn’t, she had no reason to keep them, let alone share them.”

It’s disconcerting sometimes how perfectly Shireen echoes Stannis.

“But she did.”

Stannis clenches his jaw. “You understand I invited you to stay here because I enjoy your company. I would never presume upon you.”

Davos snorts. “My honor is safe with you, yes.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. He doesn’t know why, but Stannis’ entire bearing shifts, his temper flaring up.

“Of course. I’m a safe man to think of this way, I suppose. No danger in a cold fish.”

He starts to get to his feet, but things aren’t adding up in Davos’ head. Stannis always adds up in his head.

“What does that mean?” Davos asks. “Who said anything about cold fish?”

Stannis flares down at him. “I’m not a man people are surprised only has one child. Surely you’ve heard that.”

_ Oh. _

“I have, but I don’t see the relevance. Shireen showed me the clips she saved from interviewing you because she thinks you’re in love with me. That’s hardly something a cold fish would feel.”

Stannis frowns at him. “She showed me the reverse- clips of you speaking that sounded like you were in love with me.”

“I am, so that does make sense,” Davos says.

“No, you aren’t.”

“I think I’d know better than you.”

“I’ve loved you for years,” Stannis says. He picks his fork back up. “For a man who’s usually so perceptive, I’m surprised you missed it. I made overtures toward you for more than a year. I meant to stop sooner, of course, but there were times you seemed receptive. I suppose I should have spoken to you outright, but you did work for me. Our working relationship has always been good; losing you would have been impossible to recover from. I had no desire to risk that. If you’d had any interest, you would have responded. I’ve never known you to play coy.”

Davos watches him pick up a carton, sniff it, realize it’s Davos’ sweet curry, and set it aside with a wrinkled nose.

_ He’s had so long to think about this, he isn’t angry anymore. _

When has Stannis ever stopped being angry about anything?

Either unaware of or unbothered by Davos’ internal crisis, Stannis continues, “As a rule, I don’t invite people to live in my home indefinitely. Nor do I allow them to parent my daughter. I don’t let Renly and Loras do that, and one of them is my brother and the other is a responsible adult.”

Stannis keeps talking, but Davos is only half listening.

Maybe one quarter listening.

Maybe less.

“So you do love me,” he says.

Stannis pauses, clearly still having been going strong. “That’s what I just told you, yes.”

“Gods.” Davos rubs at his eyes. “Gods, Stannis.”

“I don’t suppose there’s more to that thought? Something helpful, perhaps?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, Davos closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t move in indefinitely with just anyone,” he says slowly, dropping his hand and opening his eyes. “I don’t spend every hour of my day working to make things run perfectly for everyone around me- my ex-wife can attest to that. I’ve never had a relationship I didn’t stray from at some point. Except for this.”

“Don’t joke about this.”

“Why would you think I’m joking?” Davos asks. Anger and loss swirl together in his gut, so hot he feels cold.

“You made yourself clear-”

Davos clenches his fist, counts back from five, then says. “I didn’t know you were asking me anything.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“By actually asking me. You didn’t get the answer you wanted by asking without asking, and all on your own, you made me into one of your failures. I didn’t even know that was something I could be.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree. I think it matters a whole damn lot.”

“Why? If you care for me and I care for you, then didn’t we reach the same result?”

“Did we?” Davos asks. “Did we get to the same place by needing your daughter to intervene as we would have gotten if one of us had said something? Because I imagine I would have been quite happy if you’d told me on your own that you loved me twenty years ago, yet I’m not happy today. It isn’t about the time we lost. It’s about you doing what you always do- you took something good and turned it into a slight against yourself.”

Stannis doesn’t deny it. He just looks at Davos as if it doesn’t matter.

Davos gets to his feet. “I’m not hungry anymore. Excuse me.”

Davos doesn’t expect Stannis to call him back, and Stannis doesn’t.

xx

It’s half past midnight, and Davos still hasn’t managed to fall asleep. 

Worse, he’s hungry.

He’d thought he would either fall asleep right away or be so angry he stayed up all night internally railing at Stannis.

Instead, he’s scrolling through Allrecipes for a quick midnight snack that will knock him out.

He’s got some good whiskey in the kitchen, and the hot toddy recipe he just found would go down very easily…

It’s just his luck that when he turns on the lights in the kitchen, Stannis is waiting for him.

“I don’t want to talk,” Davos tells him. “I want to make myself a drink, then go back to bed.”

“You don’t have to talk, but you made accusations. I have the right to address them.”

“I don’t think you do, actually,” Davos mutters, struggling to reach the shelves with the liquor, “but if you have something to say, I can’t stop you from saying it.”

He does want to hear what Stannis has to say, but Stannis doesn’t need to hear that. He’s always up for a good hour of monologuing.

Someone- Stannis- put the good liquor on the highest shelf, and the step stool Davos reluctantly accepted he needed is nowhere to be found.

“Shireen took it to her dorm last week,” Stannis reminds him before Davos gets suspicious. He unfolds himself from his chair and comes over to stand next to Davos. “Which one do you want?”

Davos wants to point out that he’s capable of getting his own alcohol, but Stannis is already there and letting him get it will be faster than arguing. “The Maker’s Mark, if you would.”

One of Stannis’ finer qualities is he doesn’t play dumb just to be aggravating. He fetches Davos’ bottle and hands it to him without any games, then politely retreats to his chair.

If Davos were to guess, the last one wasn’t as easy as the first two.

He’s only just put the water on to boil when Stannis begins.

“You accused me of making you into a failure before you were one.” Davos nods before he can stop himself. “What about our current situation is a failure? We live together happily, our children have grown up with each other, Shireen adores you… I don’t see how I’ve made this into something undesirable.”

He means it. That’s the worst part. No one ever sat Stannis down and told him that with people, there is no destination. There’s just the journey. Davos tried to explain this earlier, but Stannis hadn’t been listening.

“The failure isn’t the result.” Davos hunts through the lower cabinets for the honey and the spice rack that seems to grow legs whenever Shireen and her friends visit. “You’re misrepresenting the result, though. We didn’t raise our children together as brothers and sister. We live together but sleep in different beds in different rooms- don’t try to point out that some happy couples do things like that. We aren’t a couple. A couple declarations in a kitchen do not a relationship make.”

Stannis ruminates on that for a bit. “But you do want us to have one.”

Emerging victorious from the bottom row of cabinets, Davos checks the water in the pan and tries to will it into boiling faster. “Gods help me, but yes, Stannis. I do want that.”

“Then why are you unhappy?” There’s a pause, and Davos can practically hear Stannis’ insecurity clicking into place. “You don’t want to want me.”

“No, I’m happy wanting you. But you did just prove my other accusation, didn’t you?”

The water starts to boil, and Davos turns the heat off just in time for Stannis to say, “You think I turn everything into an insult.”

“I know you do, yeah.”

Stannis doesn’t argue, which puts Davos ill at ease as he mixes the water, whisky, and extras together.

Drink made, Davos is left with a choice- return to his bed with his warm drink or stay here and hold Stannis’ metaphorical hand.

He sits down too hard, but he’s too tired to be graceful.

Across from him, Stannis looks equally exhausted.

“What am I supposed to do?” Stannis asks. “You want me to change myself? I can’t. I won’t.”

Davos shakes his head. “You’re doing it again. I don’t want you to be someone else. I want you to take a minute and realize I’m not trying to fight you. And I want you to ask me out.”

Stannis stares at him. “Why?”

“Because that’s how things change.” His drink is finally cool enough to take a sip, so Davos does.

Stannis doesn’t look any less confused.

It’s late and Davos wasn’t intending to get into this. Finding an explanation is a struggle. “This would have been easier if we’d done this ten years ago,” he says with a sigh. “Look. I can’t explain why, but it matters. You already know the things and places I like. Pick one, and ask me out on a proper date. Tell me I look handsome. Hold my hand if you want. Hell, you can go for a kiss if you’re feeling bold. Maybe it won’t matter, but it can’t hurt.”

He expects resistance. Stannis is busy, Davos is busy, they’ve already done all of this as friends, they’re in their fifties and above this… There are plenty of arguments he could make.

Stannis doesn’t argue, though. He nods and reaches for his phone, and that’s how Davos knows Stannis isn’t brushing him off. Stannis only pulls his phone out when he has to.

“There’s an overlapping opening in our schedules this Thursday,” he says. “If we schedule for five o’clock, we can get dinner as well. Is that an acceptable time?”

“It is.”

Stannis nods sharply, and Davos can see the wheels turning as Stannis runs through the options of places he can take Davos.

He didn’t quite manage to ask Davos out, but it’s close enough.

xx

Thursday morning, Stannis knocks on Davos’ bedroom door.

“There’s a pop up art show in King’s Landing,” he says when Davos opens it. “You’re fond of those, and this one is a contemporary art show. I thought you might like to see it.”

_ He really is awkward, _ Davos thinks fondly, _ and making an effort- he hates contemporary art. _ “I would, yeah.”

“Then I will be ready at five to five. The show doesn’t begin until five thirty.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Stannis nods and departs. He’s holding himself even more rigidly than he naturally does, and Davos feels a pang of guilt. He doesn’t want Stannis to be uncomfortable; Davos just wants him to be as purposeful about being with Davos as he is about everything else.

He’ll be all right once he figures out Davos isn’t looking for him to be something he isn’t. They’ll have a good time like they always do, and Stannis will remove the second stick from his ass.

xx

“You look handsome,” Davos says when he walks into the kitchen and spots Stannis. Stannis has put on one of his nicest pairs of suit pants but swapped his blazer and tie for a turtleneck- a deliberate choice and probably a painful one. “I’ve always liked you in this one.”

“Thank you.” Casting a sharp eye over Davos, Stannis adds, “That's the shirt I gave you last year.”

“It is.” Stannis frowns, and Davos steps closer to him, reaching forward to smooth an imaginary wrinkle from the shoulder of Stannis’ shirt. “We aren’t pretending to be strangers. You’ve already got me, and I’m not going anywhere. This is just a way to make it all a bit neater. You like when things are neat.”

“I do.”

“Good. Then I just have to grab one thing quickly. Get the car and I’ll meet you out there?”

It’s disconcerting for Stannis to be tentative. It won’t last; he’s too stubborn to remain uncertain.

xx

They’ve been in the car for maybe ten minutes when Stannis says, “It looks good on you.”

Davos doesn’t ask what he means. “Thank you. It was a gift from someone I’m rather fond of.”

He watches Stannis frown at the road and wonders if he should feel guilty about reaping the fruits of other people’s inability to flirt with Stannis.

xx

Stannis hates the exhibit. Davos can see the venom in his eyes, and as much as Davos actually does enjoy some of the displays, he enjoys guessing at the reasons for Stannis’ objections more.

They reach a painting that even Davos has to admit is beyond his comprehension and Stannis pulls a face that looks like it might hurt.

Davos nudges his arm. “I think I’m ready for that dinner you promised me.”

Accepting the invitation to leave, Stannis lets Davos lead him out.

They walk to the restaurant. It’s only two blocks away, and the temperature has dropped enough for Davos to feel a little chilly.

It’s a good feeling.

The restaurant Stannis picked is a mom and pop. It’s kitschy and eclectic, and the hostess, a short girl Davos almost recognizes, gives them a nod when they walk in.

“Evening, Mr. Baratheon,” she says, surprising Davos. She doesn’t sound happy, exactly, but the small smile she gives him is genuine. “Everything going well?”

“It is. How is Gendry?”

“Well, he made a knife and accidentally got it stuck in the ceiling not ten minutes later, so a mixed bag, I suppose.”

“He’s his father’s son,” Stannis says. It’s affectionate, and Davos marvels for a moment at how differently Stannis feels about his nephew than his brothers.

Peering past Stannis, the girl says, “So this is your date. He looks like he does in your photos.”

“That was my intention,” Stannis answers. Turning away from her, he addresses Davos. “Arya Stark, Ned’s younger daughter. She lives with Gendry.”

“Oh, the one he was so embarrassed about pissing in front of,” Davos says, the pieces slipping into place. “I hadn’t thought a Baratheon man could experience embarrassment. I suppose Starks do have a tendency to attract Baratheons, though.”

“I attracted Gendry a bit better than my father did with Robert, though,” Arya observes dryly. “I hope.”

Stannis snorts. “Is the table ready?”

“It is, yeah. You want me to show you to it?”

“Davos and I can manage.”

She nods, and Stannis gestures for Davos to follow him away.

The restaurant has a good crowd, and Davos feels himself relax into the low hum of all the conversations around them. Stannis isn’t one for crowds, but he seems less bothered. His back isn’t quite as ramrod straight as he weaves through the tables toward a destination he hasn’t opted to share.

Davos knows where they’re going before they arrive, though. There’s a little table shifted slightly out of place to occupy a corner; it looks cozy, perfect for the two of them.

Stannis doesn’t pull Davos’ chair out for him, but he does wait for Davos to sit before he does.

“This is to your liking?” he asks.

“It is.” Davos takes the cloth napkin off the table and lays it on his lap. “Much more comfortable than that exhibit- not that I didn’t enjoy it,” he adds quickly. “I rather liked that sculptor who uses repurposed computer parts to build her plants.”

“She has a good grasp of form,” Stannis agrees.

“Better than the knock-off Rothko?”

Stannis twitches. “You asked me to woo you, Davos. I’m not the most experienced man, but I don’t recall complaining being part of the process.”

“In general, no, but this is only nominally a first date. I already know you have strong opinions. It’s part of your charm.”

Stannis frowns at him, parsing the truth of what Davos is saying, and hasn’t stopped when Arya finds them. She has two glasses and a pitcher in her hands, menus under her arm.

“Those aren’t your bedroom eyes, are they?” she asks.

Stannis gives her a flat look, and Davos snorts. It’s good to see someone casually needle Stannis. Arya does it well. Renly or Robert would have coupled the quip with a dig; Arya seems content just to push Stannis a little.

There really must be something about Starks that makes them better with Baratheons.

Stannis glances at him but looks back at Arya without saying anything. “That’s interesting criticism coming from someone who’s chosen to live with my nephew.”

Arya makes a gesture with her head Davos takes to mean _ point taken. _“He makes good on his promises, though, doesn’t he, Uncle?”

Stannis’ jaw tightens, and Arya gives Davos a wink as she lays the menus on the table. “Take as long as you need.”

Davos watches her leave with a growing sense of amusement.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Stannis glares at his menu and doesn’t answer.

Davos picks up his own.

The food is standard fare, nothing too elaborate or unfamiliar. It may be in deference to the disaster that was Davos’ one forced attendance at one of Cersei’s get togethers at a restaurant that hadn’t had a word of English anywhere in it. Stannis had been forced to interpret and order for him. Only Robert had been remotely as ill-equipped, but he was famous enough to get away with it.

The evening had only gone downhill from there.

Watching Stannis critically, Davos supposes another explanation is Stannis’ contentious relationship with food. The simpler and more familiar it is, the more likely he’ll accept it, Davos has found. Stannis would live off oatmeal and gruel if he could.

“I do like her,” Stannis says.

Davos looks up and finds Stannis frowning at his glass of water. “She seems a good sort.”

“She has most of her parents’ virtues. Less of their honor, which can only be a boon.”

“Not an artist either, I take it.”

“A competitive fencer.”

“And she’s with Gendry? Dear gods.”

Stannis nods and tears his eyes away from his glass to look over the menu again. The lines around his mouth confirm what Davos already suspected.

“We don’t have to eat if you aren’t hungry.”

Stannis doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine.”

_ Stubborn man, _Davos thinks. Too stubborn by half.

When Arya returns, they place their orders. Stannis looks pleased by Davos’ choice, which is good enough.

“So,” Davos says after she’s left. “Which did you hate most?”

“I didn’t hate them.”

“Stannis, you looked like you were one moment away from burning the place down. Go on.”

“The balloon animal triptych.”

Davos laughs- that wasn’t the one he was expecting, but it fits. “What did you find most objectionable about it?”

“I can’t think of any element less offensive than the others.”

“Really? I thought the man’s description of his color scheme stood out.”

“There was a description?”

“I overheard him telling someone. I believe you were too consumed with the visual horror to hear him.”

“A mercy, I take it.”

Davos takes a sip of water. “You have no idea.”

xx

Stannis’ jacket is warm. Davos forgot to bring his out to the car, and as night fell, the temperature dropped quickly. The car hasn’t been running for long enough to turn the heat on, so Davos is sitting in the passenger seat with Stannis’ jacket on backwards.

He tries to hide his smile, but Stannis catches sight of it.

“Something funny?” he asks.

“Just reflecting on something Renly told me once,” Davos tells him. “He called you the least gentlemanly gentleman he’s ever known.”

Stannis frowns at the windshield.

“I see his point. You gave me a look that said I should have remembered my jacket, but you did give me yours. You’re an interesting man.”

They reach a stop sign, and when the car falls still to let the other cars pass, Davos pats Stannis’ knee. “That isn’t a criticism. I’m amused that Renly got so close to the truth but didn’t quite get it right.”

“Is that so.”

Davos hums. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a man like Renly- probably not fall in love with him, to start. Oh, he’s likable enough, but he isn’t someone I’d rely on.” Absently, Davos runs his thumb over an irregularity in the fabric above Stannis’ knee. “Besides, I have a horrible feeling I’d break him if I sat on him.”

“I don’t know why you think I wouldn’t. Or why you’d want to sit on me in the first place.”

“You’re sturdier than Renly, and yes, you do. Just think for a minute. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

Stannis doesn’t answer him, but a moment later, Davos watches him swallow and squeeze the wheel tighter. He pulls his own hand back a moment later, recognizing the downturned corner of Stannis’ mouth as a sign he’s reached his limit with being handled.

“There’s an _ Antiques Roadshow _marathon tonight, you know.”

“Is that how all your dates end, Davos? With _ Antiques Roadshow?” _

“Only the good ones.”

“That’s a terrible line.”

“It is, isn’t?”

He gets a snort in reward for it, and Davos knows he isn’t going to be able to concentrate on PBS’ OTC sleeping pill.

xx

Davos is half-asleep when Shireen comes home. He and Stannis are on the couch as they usually are. Stannis is sitting upright, assessing each offering as confidently as the professional on the screen.

“Four thousand,” he proclaims. “Not a penny more than that.”

A moment later, the assessor says, “Conservatively, I’d estimate you could get ten thousand dollars for it at auction.”

“Ten thousand dollars?” Stannis echoes. “For _ that?” _

Davos, who’s sitting sideways under a blanket with his feet in Stannis’ lap, sees Shireen try to sneak past.

“Someone was out late,” he calls, rousing himself enough to raise his voice.

Shireen turns around and leans into the room. “Hi, Davos.” She glances at her father then back at him. “Did you have a good time?”

“Very good. Your father almost went back to the show after we had dinner to fight one of the artists.”

“That’s very generous to him and insulting to the rest of us,” Stannis mutters without taking his eyes off the screen.

Davos smiles up at Shireen. “How did your night go?”

“Well, a guy from my class texted me to tell me he saw my dad at an art show,” she says. “Apparently, he was showing at it.”

Stannis doesn’t react.

“Did Stannis see it?” Davos asks.

“Yeah, and the guy heard Father ask you what the point of it was. He was pretty emphatic about the wording.”

Stannis sighs. “If I wanted to see a woman’s breasts, I’d watch HBO. At least then they’d be anatomically correct.”

Davos doesn’t suggest that Stannis probably isn’t someone who should throw stones about a man not knowing about women, but he does catch Shireen’s eye and see her thinking the same thing.

“Right,” Shireen says, “well, now that I’ve had to hear that, I think I’ll go to bed. Night, Davos.”

“Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight, Shireen,” Stannis says. “I’m here as well.”

Shireen blinks at him. “Goodnight, Father.”

He nods, accepting it, and she makes a hasty retreat.

“You’re going to give your own daughter a heart attack. I hope you know that.”

“It can’t be worse than that abomination being worth fifty thousand dollars.”

The “abomination” in question is a couch.

It’s the ugliest couch Davos has ever seen.

“I’d pay twice that never to have to see that again,” he says, eyes glued to it like he’s watching a car crash.

In the corner of his eye, he sees Stannis nod.

They watch another two hours of Roadshow before they admit they’re both about to fall asleep. Davos sadly drags his feet off Stannis’ lap, and Stannis braces his hands on his knees he hauls himself upright.

Davos lets himself sit and watch. This isn’t the time to be thinking about taking Stannis’ pants off, but Stannis won’t notice.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Or he will.

“I was just thinking,” Davos tells him. “Ready?”

“I was ready when that man said that woman in the ghastly hat her despicable figurines are worth more than our house.”

Davos must have been asleep for that; he’s sure he would remember anything that makes Stannis pull that sort of face.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Stannis nods and walks past Davos toward the stairs. Davos follows him, thoughts already drifting toward his bed and the fresh sheets he put on it. He’s going to sleep well tonight; he can feel it.

He doesn’t make it there before Stannis stops, one foot on the first stair. He turns to face Davos.

“Davos.”

“Is something wrong?”

“We’ll do this again.”

He isn’t asking, which our to put Davos off. Instead, he feels himself smile; Stannis wouldn’t be bringing up a second date if he hadn’t liked the first.

“I’d like that. You’ll schedule it?”

Stannis nods. “I’ll come up with a list of possibilities. We’ll discuss them tomorrow over breakfast.”

He leaves without another word. 

Davos leaves as well, and by the time he’s finished brushing his teeth, he feels settled for the first time in a long time. The world feels steady under his feet.

He falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow, and he sleeps soundly through the night.

xx

Stannis is waiting at the table when Davos wanders into the kitchen. There’s a paper on the table in front of him; it looks like a spreadsheet. Davos tries and fails to reason whether Stannis made it as a genuine guide or if he just woke up early and thought it would be funny to make Davos think of Microsoft Excel before noon.

“For our second date,” Stannis announces, “we have five reasonable options. Your coffee is already on the table, Davos. Why are you peering in corners as if I’ve hidden it?”

Davos doesn’t answer the non-question. Instead, he sits down, wraps his hands around the warm mug, and asks, “What’s the first one?”

**Author's Note:**

> alternate, better title: “hello, it’s me, picasso”
> 
> thank you for my life, dan balan


End file.
